


Desperate Hearts

by tentativeraspberryturtle



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Dark Doctor (Doctor Who), F/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Obsessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 14:29:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12037848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tentativeraspberryturtle/pseuds/tentativeraspberryturtle
Summary: Hello! This my first fanfic and I have no idea what I'm doing so don't expect too much. Just a bit of unrealistically dark Doctor written for fun. Thank you for reading!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This my first fanfic and I have no idea what I'm doing so don't expect too much. Just a bit of unrealistically dark Doctor written for fun. Thank you for reading!

Rose crept down the corridor, barely daring to breath. The once-familiar hum of the TARDIS felt ominous now - an effect highlighted by the shadowed corridors, only faintly lit with that otherworldly green glow. She shivered in her thin nightclothes. Her heart pounding in her throat. The corridors seemed to twist ahead of her, a never ending maze. She didn’t even know where to go. _Away away away_ Rose thought. She needed to escape. From _him_.

Speaking of him…

“Rose?”

The voice was faint, but it was unmistakably his. It echoed down the hallway, sending shivers down her spine. She jumped, shoving her fist in her mouth to keep from screaming.

“Rose? ROOOOSE!? Where are you?” He sounded worried, panicked even, and Rose forced back the small part of her that wanted to call back to him. To reassure him that she was all right. Instead she moved faster, ducking through doorways and creeping across strange rooms. Had the TARDIS always been this big? Several times she thought she heard footsteps behind her and gripped the syringe tighter in her hand. 

"Rose.” He sounded relieved now. “Come here, love. It’s okay.”

His voice was definitely closer, the sound of footsteps more distinct. Rose ran down another hallway just as all the lights went on, blinding her with their suddenness and making her press herself against the wall in fear. The dark which had seemed so sinister now felt safer, a misplaced blessing. She crept forward, turning another corner and saw the Doctor.

He looked the much the same as she’d remembered with messy brown hair, pinstriped suit and trainers. But there was something different in his stance, his face looked slightly narrower, cheekbones more prominent and his eyes darker, almost feral. He smiled when he saw her, raising his hands carefully to his shoulders. “Hello.”

Rose spun around quickly, making to run back the way she’d come but where the hallway had been was now a solid wall. She turned back to the Doctor who still had his hands raised, palms up in a calming gesture as he paced slowly forward. “It’s okay, Rose. I’m not going to hurt you. Put the syringe down, love.”

She shook her head, backing into the wall. “Don’t come closer.”

The Doctor sighed, still walking carefully towards her, like she was a frightened animal. “You’re confused, Rose. And tired. Please, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” His voice was low and even. It might even have been soothing in any other situation.

Rose’s back hit the wall. “You r-raped me, Doctor. I remember-” She realized her hands were shaking and gripped the syringe until it felt like her hands were fused around it.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Put it down, Rose, or I will take it from you.” When Rose didn’t move, she saw the Doctor’s face slip into a mask of resignation before he darted forward.

She had never realized just how fast the Time Lord could move. There was a brown blur and Rose could barely twitch before he was in front of her, his fingers pressing into her temples as he murmured something under his breath. Instantly her limbs felt like jello, her muscles heavy and uncooperative. Rose felt her legs give way, and she started to fall - but of course he was there, catching her. The Doctor lowered her gently to the floor. Beneath her pounding heartbeat, Rose distantly felt the Doctor carefully easing the syringe from where her fingers still clenched around it. Finally pulling it free, he threw it aside and reached back for Rose, pulling her up so her head was resting in his lap.

“I should've known,” he grinned down at her, a note of pride in his voice. “Give Rose Tyler a syringe and she’ll pick the door with it _and_ try to stab you.” He shook his head in disbelief and grinned again. “I always seem to underestimate you.”

Rose was slowly working free of her shock but despite her repeated efforts, she still couldn’t move. A faint terrified whimper escaped her, muffled where her face pressed against his suit and the Doctor immediately turned her head with his hand so she was looking up at him. The fear and mistrust on her face made him frown.

“Shhh now, I just blocked the neurotransmitters to your somatic nervous system. Quite a neat Time Lord trick - and temporary,” he hastened to add. “But you wouldn’t listen, Rose.” He stroked a finger down her cheek, the fondness in his voice making her stomach churn. “Too stubborn. And I couldn’t risk you hurting yourself.”

His voice was reasonable, a stark contrast to what he was actually saying. Rose closed her eyes tightly, feeling like the world was turning on it’s head. She shivered involuntarily as his finger brushed down her cheek again. The sheer helplessness of her position terrified her. Being unable to move, Rose felt very aware of the rush of blood in her ears, the scratchy wool of his suit on her cheek and the cool line he was drawing with his finger. She shivered again.

When Rose opened her eyes again, the Doctor’s expression had changed. He was still smiling slightly but she didn’t like the look in his eyes. It felt almost… hungry? Ten cocked his head to the side, his expression speculative. His finger drifted lower, brushing against her lips before moving to trace them carefully. He met her eyes again (his pupils were huge, nearly eclipsing his iris) and whatever he saw in them made him groan.

“ _Oh Rose_.”

And the Doctor removed his finger.

And bent down.

And kissed her.

His lips weren’t cold like the rest of him, but hot and feverish as he worked them frantically over her own. Hands slid lower, gripping her shoulders tightly, lifting her up to meet him and his tongue slipped easily between her lips before she could find the presence of mind to close them. The Doctor explored her mouth with a desperation she’d never seen in him. He pulled his tongue back only to draw his nose along her forehead, pressing little kisses up her cheeks and down her neck. When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen from the intensity of his onslaught and his eyes were blazing like black fire.

He was silent for a moment and Rose noticed his breath was coming more quickly than usual. Her body still buzzed, the intrusive feel of his hands and tongue still lingered against her skin. “Well, I definitely can’t trust you on your own now, can I?” The Doctor hummed thoughtfully under his breath. “I’ll have to look after you. C’mon, let’s go to bed.”


	2. Chapter 2

He lifted her up, carefully gathering her limp form into his arms. She whimpered and he shushed her, his lips brushing her forehead as his hands combed through her hair.

“Quiet, love. I’m taking you to bed.”

Rose felt still more panicked at that but she could do nothing but lie in his arms as the Doctor walked through the TARDIS corridors, still murmuring comfortingly in her ears. Her heart was beating rapidly and the arched metal ceilings of the ship seemed to blur and flicker as they passed above her. Rose felt it when they entered his room, his pace slowed and she heard the door click shut behind him. The Doctor carried her to the bed and gently set her down after pulling back the covers. He kissed her forehead and she felt his fingers running up her arm before he straightened.

“We’re here - wellll, that’s obvious I suppose. I’ll be right back, Rose. _Relax_.”

A shift of air and she heard him move away, just a couple of feet. Moments later came the rustle of fabric and Rose felt another twinge of terror shoot through her stomach. The Doctor was _undressing_. Motivated by pure fear, Rose tried to move again, focusing all of her considerable willpower and was surprised when she felt her fingers twitch. Whatever he’d done to her must be wearing off! Gritting her teeth, Rose managed to push her arms under her and start crawling up the bed.

But then Doctor was back, pressing a hand to her back, stilling her. Quickly, he slid under the covers and gripped her shoulders, turning her to face him. She struggled feebly against his grip and the Doctor raised his eyebrows thoughtfully.

“Hmm, adrenaline must make it wear off quicker,” he mumbled to himself. And then his fingers were back on her forehead and another wave of heaviness swept through her body making her arms fall limply back to her sides. He smiled then - deceivingly innocent, happy - and reached out to pull her forward until they were lying just inches apart. “So stubborn...so determined. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

The Doctor reached forward and touched her quivering lips, gently trailing his fingers along the curve of her mouth. At least he wasn't naked, Rose felt a small amount of relief. He’d was clad just in his trousers and an undershirt. Without his striped suit he looked different. Younger somehow, or more vulnerable. His chestnut eyes were wide and fascinated, fixed on her with hungry, almost desperate attention.

Rose was shaking, her body quivering underneath his, she couldn’t help it but she saw the Doctor frown. He pulled her closer and started stroking her back in a way that he clearly meant to be soothing. When he leaned forward, she could feel his cool breath against her ear as his whispers stirred her hair.

“Calm down, Rose. Relax. You need to rest, you’re tired- exhausted - and confused.” The Doctor shifted until he could meet her eyes, staring intently, _hungrily_ into her hazel depths. “You should never be afraid of me. I _need_ you. I will never, never hurt you.” He kissed her fiercely on the lips as if to prove his point, seemingly undeterred by her fearful moan. He just pressed harder, folding her into him like he could press them into one person. Finally he pulled back just barely enough to meet her gaze again, reluctant to put even the tiniest space between them. “ _Relax_ ,” he said again.

He wouldn’t stop touching her, seeming starved for contact; the Doctor ran his fingers down her shoulders, he nuzzled into the curve of her neck, his palms pressed along her back and sides, smoothing over her spine as his long fingers dug into her t-shirt. Rose could feel his hair brushing against her chin where his face was buried in her neck and she shivered as his stubble scratched against the tender skin. Ten arched and snuggled into the crook of her shoulder, throwing a leg over her waist - the gesture more possessive than overtly sexual.

“ _Rose_ ,” the Doctor half-sighed, half moaned against her neck. “RoseRoseRoseRoseRose.” His lips pressed hungrily along against her throat and nuzzled into her scent, kissing his way up her jaw and exploring the cranny near her ear. Rose could do nothing but lie there, helpless in the suffocating trap of his arms. His body, usually so cool, felt hot. A feverish warmth bleeding through his thin shirt where he pressed against her. “No,” she whispered, tentative, desperate. “No, please please, don-”

“Shhhhh.” the Doctor’s finger pressed lightly against her lips, cutting of her protests. His fingers delicately traced the bones of her face, as though re-memorizing every curve. Too scared to make sound, Rose just stared at him - his pale, freckled face just inches from her own, the fringe of his hair blurring the skin of his forehead - his eye were shut almost comically tight, brow furrowed in concentration. Rose frowned in confusion than gasped when his fingers tightened painfully around her chin. His eyes flashed open and she looked away from them, frightened by the obsession and pure _want_ shinning in his dilated pupils. He loosened his grip at her cry, brushing another feather-light kiss along her jaw. “Oh Rose,” he murmured, warm breath fanning her face. “How I’ve missed you.”

Wanting her still closer, the Doctor pulled her tighter against him, bumping their foreheads together and sighing contentedly even as she winced at the fresh contact. The restless fever which had been burning constantly in him since their separation seemed to lesson with every press of his body to hers. The Doctor let his hands trail downwards, intent on exploring every inch of what he’d lost. Fingers drew slowly down her arms, squeezing gently. He stopped at her breasts, making a soft hungry sound in his throat, but moved on when Rose whimpered fearfully. Instead he mapped out her ribs ( _too skinny_ he thought absently) and smoothed along her abdomen, feeling her muscles jump at the contact. He slipped his fingers just slightly beneath her jeans to press against the indent of her hips before pulling his hands up and wrapping them firmly around her, folding her to him. The Doctor snuggled into her and breathed in her scent, the feel and smell of her filling him and wrapping around him like a drug. _His_ Rose. He had her back. This time, _this time_ , he intended to keep her. Forever.

“Doctor?” Her voice cut through his thoughts, most of which had been focused on analyzing everything, _everything_ about her: her breaths, her scent, the feel of her in her arms, the small changes since he’d last seen her (thinner definitely - the bones in her face more prominent), the way the the dim light caught in her hair or the way her skin still shone against the deep red of her lips. And her eyes - those had always been one of his favorite Rose-y things (yes he had a list. An extensive one) - but she’d been hiding them from him so far, closing her eyes when he touched her or looking to the side. He wanted to _see_ her.

The Doctor smiled gently in response, hoping to encourage her to meet his gaze. She didn’t though, kept her head ducked and spoke to covers. The movement of her mouth and the sound of her voice lapped against his being, aching in their familiarity yet enticing him with subtle differences, underlying hitches and breaths. It was only when she stopped - and her eyes flicked upwards for a frustrating split-second - that the Doctor realized she’d been trying to communicate with him.

“Wha - Sorry, love. Say again?” He ran out of patience and cupped her chin, gently drawing her face upward to meet his eyes. He held her there. “Why, Doctor? _Why_ are you doing this? You just took me from my life!” Rose could feel him stiffen against her but she pressed on. “I had a _family_ , a job, a boyfri- ”

“Shhh.” The Doctor rubbed his nose down her jaw, the tiny point of contact burning like a hot spark through his body. He wasn’t listening anymore. He didn’t _want_ to know about her new life without him. He didn’t _want_ to hear about how she’d moved on. He didn’t _want_ to listen to her tell him about the people she’d met, people who’d gotten her attention, shared her time lines, seen her intoxicating tongue-touched smiled - people who weren’t _him_.

“Doctor!” The panic and near-shout in her voice had him looking up in surprise. She was staring at him in horror. Some small, less selfish part of him felt an ache at the pain dripping down her face in sparkling tears. She continued in a rush, afraid of him, of what he might do if she couldn’t stop him. “I know something’s happened - you’re hurt, you’re different- b-but you can’t pull me out of everything in my life just because you’re scared! You were always so selfless Doctor! You gave me a chance at a new life! I want to help you but not like this. If you’d take me b -”

“N0!” He nearly snarled, cutting her off suddenly. The Doctor’s eyes had gone dark and his grip tightened around her as if she could somehow slip from his grasp. He pulled her back into his chest, muffling her surprised cry against the fabric of his shirt. His hold was so tight as to be painful and with her face pressed against his chest, Rose could feel the rapid double-beat of his hearts. She whimpered.

He rested his chin against her head and whispered his next words into her hair. “They can’t have you! They don't deserve you. They don’t need you like I do. I _need_ you, Rose! Can’t you understand that?” The Doctor sighed against her and forced himself to pull back enough to meet her eyes.

She was shaking again, hair and clothes mussed from when he’d grabbed her to him roughly and her beautiful whisky eyes shown with moisture. The Doctor felt a stab of guilt for hurting her. Repentant, he brushed her tears away with the edge of his shirt. But she was glaring at him through her tears.

“And what about me, Doctor? What _I_ want? What I need? Does that matter to you at all?” Her voice shook and, as he watched, another tear rolled down her face.

The Doctor was quiet for a long moment, his fingers still fisting into her thin nightclothes. For a moment he was terribly conscious of her wide, whisky eyes fixed imploringly on him - begging him for the one thing he couldn’t give. “It does,” he said finally, regretfully. “But not enough… I’m sorry, Rose. Truely...”

For a moment he looked like the Doctor she remembered, his lips were pursed firmly together and his eyes soft and sad; lonely centuries spinning in their depths. But it lasted less than a minute.

He'd trailed off, his overactive senses caught by the way her tears made her eyes glow almost green the TARDIS light. _Bad Wolf_ he thought dreamily, and then _Rose, my Rose_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor continues to be insane/obsessive. Where the hell am I going with this??? This is messed up, I'm sorry.

Rose was crying.

He wasn’t going to let her go. She could see the steady, almost exuberant resolve hidden behind his serious brown eyes. She had seen this determination before, on their adventures, those times when there was only one way out and he had to make a hard decision. She had never dreamed he’d take that that sort of choice from _her_.

He had made up his mind, and he was _happy,_ not happy at her pain surely, but happy to have her. No matter that she didn’t want it.

The Doctor seemed fascinated by her tears, catching them on his fingers and sucking them off carefully or delicately tracing the wet paths they made on her cheeks. He rubbed soothing circles on her back, stroked her hair rhythmically.

To Rose, his face looked nearly blissful.

“Shh-shh-shh,” he murmured for perhaps the hundredth time, petting her hair in a way clearly meant to be soothing. He cradled her gently and pressed hard, eager kisses against her wet cheeks.

“Let me go,” she sobbed, gasping out the words through her tears. The Doctor just held her tighter.

“Never,” he kissed her temple. His cool lips were already wet with her tears. She was shaking, despite whatever he’d done to her, her body trembled against his and the Doctor cupped her face gently while she shuddered, trying to get her to meet his eyes. “Look at me, Rose. I can help you.” Rose shook her head, eyes closed tightly against his voice. “You need to sleep.”

Rose was surprised enough to choke out a bitter, half-laugh. “I couldn’t sleep now,” she whispered.

“Yes you can.” Still cradling her against him, Doctor considered, humming low and thoughtful in his chest. Then he began singing softly.

His voice was soft and lilting, warm breath brushing against her ear as he continued to sing to her. He sang a Gallifreyan lullaby, strange flowing syllables with a matching telepathic rhythm which he projected lightly, enough to _just_  brush her mind. The Doctor sang about his stars, and how he knew them the same way he knew planets, he knew how they changed and aged and then crumbled with the relentless wash of time. Everything he’d ever known had faded around him - vivid stabs of light fading into watercolor and drawing away every time he blinked. He’d broken his heart again and again, chipped himself walking through a glass universe. Cursed to love such fragile things, to slip through time with the corpses of the dead weighing into his psyche. Until he’d found one thing he couldn’t let go… _You, Rose_ he told her silently, brushing his mind against her softly, pushing soothing pulses gently through her defenses. _It was you_.

Rose stilled gradually, her sobs lessening though tears still fell down her cheeks. She was still human, exhausted and worn out from fear and adrenaline. It was too much. Too much to feel and her body took over and shut down. Throughout, the Doctor coaxed her into sleep, still singing into her ear as he telepathically stroked her mind, drawing her into restful unconsciousness.

*****

The TARDIS hummed, sensing her Thief's happiness as the Doctor cradled Rose to him. He gently carded his fingers through her hair, the softness tingling through his fingers and all the way up his spine, making him sigh contentedly.

For so long, the Doctor had never allowed himself to imagine this possibility: holding Rose to him again. Even when he was starved for a scrap of her, his whole being aching with want, he’d tried to hold himself back. Of course his mind and body had rebelled more times than he’d liked; when the excruciating longing became too much he would take himself in his fist and think of her. His skin hurt constantly back then, craving something - _someone_ \- far out of reach. The fevered pounding in his chest forced him to kneel pathetically on the ground, crouched among the circuit boards and dimensional sensors. He’d let the rush of hormones and barely restrained agony push him towards a release which did nothing to ease the gnawing ache inside of him - _harsh. bitter. desperate moments snatched between restless, hollow days. pain. always pain. voices buzzing, chattering, their words were irritating moths smacking against his skull._

But afterwards was worse, it was why he held himself back as much as he could, denying the fire scorching his veins for as long as it would hold out. Because afterwards the pain turned cold, the flames burning into dead ice the second he’d cry his completion and fold over limply. Then that terrible terrible numbness, bone-deep heaviness and feeling like he’d been scooped out, left like a husk to crack and wither. It was an indifferent hatred, a feral, directionless kind born of the steady stream of anguish. That was hell and the Doctor would not, _could_ not, live it ever again.

So the feel of her body body, warm and present against his own, had him shivering with pleasure every passing second. She was here. She was his. It felt too good to be true and his huge Time Lord brain seized on the moment with a ferocity that surprised even him. The absence of pain in his chest left him floating, nearly euphoric.

Rose huffed, shifting a little in her sleep. The Doctor hugged her to him, murmuring to her and smiling when she burrowed unconsciously into his arms. He felt like he could lie here forever, with Rose in his arms and his hearts brimming with happiness and relief. The hours passed like a dream to him; he stayed wrapped around Rose the whole time, listening to her breath and feeling her heartbeat through his fingers.

Of course their was the little problem of him being intensely sexually aroused. He’d been rock hard since kissing her and pretty stiff well before that. The Time Lord shifted a little, hoping to adjust himself into a more comfortable position even as his cock ached for attention. He could wait. Until Rose had settled back in and was more comfortable around him. The Doctor allowed himself to rub against her a few times, rocking against her thigh to soothe the ache growing inside him before forcing himself to stop. He could wait. He _could_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want people to be waiting around or anything, so I'm gonna say this is probably going to be the last chapter just because I started this on a whim and have no idea where the plot would go. That being said, thank you so much for the comments and kudos, they mean a lot. And thanks for reading!

Rose stirred gradually, her sleep cycling up towards alertness as the hours passed. The Doctor couldn’t help the slight disappointment he felt on watching her eyelids flutter.   The moment was so perfect he didn’t want to break it - and if Rose acted  _ anything _ like she had last night, it most certainly would. 

Rose let out another adorable sigh, twisting a little in his arms and stretching. Her eyes opened just enough to show a glimmer of hazel. The Doctor stroked her back carefully, repetitively, not wanting to startle another panic attack from her.  _ Softly, softly _ .  _ Don’t rush.  _ He knew the exact moment she came fully awake because she stiffened, her body going tense and rigid under her fingers. She tried to sit up but her muscles were still weak and she only managed to squirm a few feet away before collapsing back on the bed. He let her.

“Good morning, Rose,” he smiled hopefully at her, willing her to play nice. Rose winced, struggled and finally propped herself up on her forearms. Her fierce glare contrasting with sleep-mussed hair and pink pajamas. The Doctor’s disappointment was only slight, quickly followed by a rush of fondness. What did he expect? Reaching out pull her back to him, he stopped when Rose flinched back, her glare becoming even more intense. 

“Don’t touch me.”

“Rose…” The Doctor made his voice calm and reasonable.

“No. I’m serious. Don’t touch me.” Her voice was steely, different from what he usually associated with his most precious companion. For a strange moment, the Doctor felt a rush of panic burn through his body, visceral and sudden in its intensity. NO! No no no  _ no _ ! He needed to touch her. Feel her. He needed  _ proof _ she was with him. Proof this wasn’t some elaborate fantasy designed by his grief-wrecked psyche. For a moment he forgot to breath, his body stiffening as a horrible clenching chill passed through his chest. The moment passed quickly, barely a few seconds but for the Time Lord it was long enough to set his mind back darker times - those lonely, terrible years without her. 

When he refocused, he saw Rose still watching him. Despite the command in her tone he could see the slight quiver along her frame, the fear lighting her eyes. The Doctor relaxed slightly. She was strong, his Rose. Fiery and determined - and he loved her for it - but she was no match for him. She couldn’t take herself away from him and with that thought, he could begin to calm down. 

Rolling over, he moved quickly until he was lying on top of her, making sure to balance his weight so not to crush her. Rose squirmed, her weakened arms pushing against his chest. He enjoyed the contact, even intended as a protest, the battering of her weak hands felt like a light massage. Ten just curled against her, hooking a leg around hers and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Shush. I won’t hurt you.”

“I don’t  _ care _ , get your stupid Time Lord arse off - mmmphh.” 

He kissed her quiet.

After a few minutes of forced contact, the Doctor lazily pushed himself up enough to hover over her. She stared right back at him. Her gold-brown eyes both angry and pleading. Searching, searching his face for something he didn’t know. He stared right back, equal in intensity though without her anxiousness. Everything about her fit where it supposed to. Every part of her was  _ Rose  _ and he felt each reminder click satisfyingly into place like a puzzle. 

“Get off.”

_ This again.  _ The Doctor cocked his head, shifting a bit so he could settle his hips comfortably against hers. “Can you make me, love? Can you stop me from touching you?” As he spoke, the Doctor trailed lazy fingers down her arms. Stiffening still further beneath him, Rose stared back, ever-waiting fear glimmering once more in her eyes,  the horror of last night starting to reappear as he continued. “I’m stronger than you.” He caught her wrists, pressing them against the bed, letting her feel his strength and hearing her whimper. “Faster then you,” he breathed the words in her ear, followed by a light nip, making her gasp and squirm in his grasp. He held her firm, determined to enforce this lesson. So he licked along her jaw, giving long sucking kisses down her neck, leaving a trail of bright red marks. The Doctor body buzzed with the feel of her, the way she gasped and twitched under his ministrations. Clever fingers worked under her light top, sliding up her smooth stomach to cup her breast. “And,” he continued, squeezing lightly. “I can make you limp and helpless with my mind,” His fingers found her temple  and Rose really did struggle then, shaking her head trying to buck him off.  _ Stop, please Doctor! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!  _ He just fit his thumb and forefinger firmly against her temples and kept them there, a soft pressure. Making a point. He knew was making her feel small,  weak, and he felt bad about that. But she needed to understand he was allowed to touch her. It was one thing he  _ wouldn’t _ compromise on. He couldn’t deny himself  _ that _ , and the quicker she came to terms with it, the faster he could rebuild her trust in him. Her struggles faded eventually, his firm strength convincing her to give up.  _ Good girl. _ “Do you understand?” He held her gaze, waiting patiently until she nodded.

“Brilliant!” The Doctor beamed and finally rolled off her. His Rose was a quick learner,  or she would be if she didn’t let her stubbornness get in the way. Sitting up, he stretched and glanced over. “Let’s get you some breakfast.” He swung his legs over the bed and watched as Rose struggled to her feet. “Do you need help?”

“No,” she said flatly, then stumbled, legs wobbling barely a second after. He was already by her side, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her to lean against him. 

“It’ll wear off soon. Try taking a step - good. There we go!” He coaxed her forward, his patient, condescending words making her want to smack him in the face. Rose scowled.

“Can’t you undo the...” 

Unsure of the word, Rose tapped her temple, feeling a new wave of anger when the Doctor smiled fondly down at her, still looking disturbingly content. 

“I could,” he gently nudged her forward, helping her walk a few more paces. “But there’s no need. We won’t do any running today, and besides I like touching you.” His arm tightened around her waist. 

Rose gritted her teeth. “That’s not a good reason.”

There was no annoyance in his answering smile. If he had picked up on her tone, the Doctor seemed perfectly happy ignoring it. “It is to me.”

It was the finality in his voice, that tone of self-approved closure that truly frightened her - striking a note of pure, muscle freezing, nausea-inducing terror straight into her bloodstream and nearly choking the breath from her lungs. And as the Doctor helped her to the door, crooning words of encouragement, Rose’s mind was racing with increasingly frantic conclusions; for all the jokes she used to make, all the times she’d laughingly called him ‘crazy’, this was the first time Rose felt she was  _ truly _ trapped with a madman.


End file.
